


Coming Home

by thunder_from_asgard



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Community: norsekink, Hurt/Comfort, Hypersensitive skin, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poor Loki, Post Avengers, Post Avengers Asgard, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_from_asgard/pseuds/thunder_from_asgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a source of pleasure. A burning pleasure. Loki’s eyes opened wide and he wanted to yell, to push Thor away, to create a bundle of flames and burn his brother’s grinning face but instead of words born from hate and despair, most embarrassingly, a moan escaped his lips. A quiet moan. A moan of pleasure. A moan echoing inside the glass cage, being reflected by the walls until his ears hurt, until the noise became unbearable.<br/>Loki’s face flushed the moment he realized it was real. The touch, as brief as it was, felt good. So good he wanted to nuzzle his head in his brother’s huge palm, so good he was hard within seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing my first work I was sure I could never deal with another wave of feels. But it happened. Thanks to the anon who brought all these inspiration to me with the norsekink-prompt I got ... kind of overwhelmed again. Please don't expect too much of a plot ... Now I am going to hide shamefully in a corner because of reasons. 
> 
> [Based on a Norsekink-prompt:](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/12008.html?thread=27908840#t27908840)  
>  _"After Thor takes Loki home, he quickly notices that Loki is hypersensitive to the slightest touch. He realizes that Loki was in the Void for so long, and in unfriendly hands for so long, that he's completely forgotten what good touch feels like, and he gets an extreme reaction to even a soft brush against his back or arms._
> 
> _So Thor decides to take advantage of this to try to render Loki more cooperative by chaining him to the bed and touching him very softly, gently, until he goes almost mad from the sensation and will do whatever Thor asks._
> 
> _\+ if Loki begs to be allowed to come but Thor doesn't let him, at least not initially._  
>  _++ if Loki eventually comes without Thor ever actually touching his cock"_  
>   
> 
> I have given my best to fill this prompt. I hope I will not disappoint you!
> 
> Please be gentle, I am still not a native speaker :/ But I did my best.  
> Comments are, as always, welcome. You can also find me on [Tumblr.](http://lovelythunders.tumblr.com)
> 
> Characters are Marvel's.
> 
> Enjoy!

It hurt. It burnt. It burnt like fire. The moment Thor’s fingers touched his cheeks it felt like the whole universe was crashing – erasing his whole existence and leaving just the pain burning awfully.

Loki shrieked.

Why was his brother doing this to him? For a moment, the briefest moment even possible, he wanted to defend himself, to raise his arms, to whisper a spell, to create a small but protective bundle of flames with a flicker of his left wrist and smash it, smash it with all his remaining strength into his brother’s face.

His punishment began. It began the moment they had reached Asgard. And Loki had to admit it was a punishment even more creative than he had ever imagined. Being burnt with kindness.

 _Hypocrisy_.

That was all it was. How could these deep blue eyes give him such a gentle look, how could these lips form almost caring words, words of worry, how could Thor _pretend_ to protect him when all he did was hurting him, causing pain, making him suffer?

The moment of shock and confusion was over when Loki realized he could not hurt his brother. He could not even protect himself. The chain was still locking his hands, the muzzle preventing his lips to open, to form the spell that was ready to roll from his tongue, to be spitted out in his brother’s face. He could even feel the flame’s heat, the flame that just existed in his imagination. The small flame, no more than a bundle of green flashes that would wipe the pathetic expression from his brother’s face.

They called _him_ the God of Lies?

Anger was mixing with pain; this was not fair, not even possible. His brother was the golden prince, always honest, always loved. And now they were alone. Now nobody would notice. Thor could speak as many soothing words as he wanted to speak but his gestures, his touches revealed his true character. The true monster. 

Thor’s small touches were shouting at him, a voice only Loki could hear echoing in his head. _Use, destroy, hurt, cause pain._ His special _vengeance_ for Midgard.

Loki deserved it. Maybe this was his punishment: Being forced to listen to gentle spoken words, to see his brother’s calm face, his friendly glance but feel nothing else than pain. How was Thor even able to burn his face with that almost innocent glance in his eyes?

Seconds later Thor pulled away, his hand jerking back quickly as if he had caused the pain to himself, his eyes revealing something like – shock? Was it his intention to hurt him at all?

Usually Loki could read Thor like an open book. But this was different. Loki nearly believed in Thor’s _honesty_. That the brief touch was nothing more than a friendly gesture. The burning mark was Loki’s fault. Loki was the one being too sensitive.

\--

What did it even matter?

Loki was back. Back in Asgard. Back _home_. Brought back by his own brother to be punished for everything he had done. Burning his cheeks was just the beginning. A knot was forming in his stomach, making him squirm. It was as if he was slowly awaking from a dream, a nightmare, the worst nightmare ever possible. Awaking to find himself trapped in another nightmare. Would it stop? Loki was not sure. All he could do was waiting until the All-Father had decided how he was going to be punished.

Thor guided him through the palace of Asgard, through rooms he knew, rooms that were so familiar. He did not speak, why should he? Reveal the All-Fathers plans or even help him? Thor was the golden prince, soon he would be king and Loki was nothing. A pathetic creature waiting for its punishment. A creature craving for being equal.

Instead he had hoped for help that would not come. Had been used. Thanos. The Chitauri.

\--

Loki’s face revealed nothing, a mask of indifference. But his insides were burning from a pain that could never, never end. Not after what had happened. Thor had not the slightest idea what had _really_ happened. He did not even ask _why_.

Thanos. The Chitauri. _They_ were able to cause pain. _They_ were able to make their prey suffer. A pain Thor could never understand. Or end. 

Loki had thought it would be easy to convince Thanos to help him. But the price had been high.

Too high to be healthy. Too high to be paid without causing damage.

The exotic king-to-be, the beautiful creature from another realm. Power had its price. Loki had learnt this the previous weeks and months. Even now while he was covered in his regular thick layers of clothes he could feel cruel hands on his naked skin, causing bruises and blood and –

Loki’s thoughts were interrupted when Thor finally stopped in front of another room. Well, Loki corrected himself, not a room at all. A prison made from glass – a special treatment for the special prince. Without the muzzle he would not have to be able to suppress a cheerless laughter.

The All-Father, Thor, whoever decided to make this place his new home had been especially cruel. Surprisingly cruel, Loki had to admit.

They would have given him an important gift sending him to the palace’s dungeons. He would have had time to think, to be on his own. But here he could be watched, surveying eyes would prevent even the slightest idea to fill his head.

He had to be alone to think. To concentrate. To recover.

He had to be alone to find a way out. Alone, as always. As he was used to.

Thor removed the muzzle from his lips in a cruel movement and Loki had to bit his tongue until it almost bled to prevent himself from revealing the pain he felt in a loud moan. He had always regarded his brother as kind and caring and gentle. To be honest, Thor had always been the only one being kind to him. His sudden cruelty – where did it come from? With another harsh movement, a touch that burnt his wrists, he removed the shackle as well, letting both items drop to the floor.

“Make yourself comfortable”, he heard Thor’s voice, calm and gentle as always. “I will come back soon to see if you are alright. Please let me know if you need something.”

Loki wanted to spit out in front of him, but he felt too weak to do anything. His bones were still aching from the lost fight on Midgard and his cheek and wrists were still burning from his brother’s cruel touches.

He watched Thor heading to the door – obviously made from glass as well – but before he left he turned around once again. “I’m sorry, brother”, he whispered and then the door fell shut. Loki was alone.

\--

Did he really apologize for burning him? What else could he mean?

Loki groaned, a veil of bitterness creeping over his face. What a cozy little place. Thor had thought about everything to make the time he had to wait for his death sentence as comfortable as possible. Loki spotted a pile of books on top of the table, a huge bed in the corner, some new clothes and even painkillers in small bottles beside the bed.

Loki took one of the bottles, uncorking it and finally swallowing once, twice and a third time until the whole bottle was empty, the liquid making its way down his throat. Sit and wait, there was not more to do. Loki waited until he felt the numbness the painkillers caused spreading out in his whole body. Before his legs were giving in he stumbled to the bed and closed his eyes. Forget. _Forget_. It did not happen. Just sleep and pretend it did not happen.

\--

When he woke up he felt better. The pain had vanished and his mind was no longer spinning around. He was able to concentrate, to make a plan, maybe he was even able to convince Thor to help him out of this _situation_. Loki grinned. Yes, that might work.

But before even the slightest piece of a plan could form inside his head, the door to his prison opened. Loki did not even raise his head. It had to be Thor. Who else wanted to see him; the fallen, broken not-prince? His brother always kept his promises. Loki’s lips curled into a smirk. With the right words he could –

“Are you hungry?” Thor asked and Loki finally looked up. Thor was standing directly in front of the bed, a bowl of soup in his hands. Loki only shook his head and sat up. He would not give Thor the confidence to look up to him. Never. Instead he stood up, staring at his brother expressionless.

“Loki, listen, I will do everything within my powers to make this bearable for you.” Loki heard Thor’s words and wanted to laugh again. _Bearable_? He was sitting in a cage made from glass, guards could watch him whenever they wished to do so while Thor was pretending to be the mighty king of Asgard, too busy to make sure his evil brother was alright.

\--

Loki was not prepared to what happened next. Thor stepped closer, a hand brushing against the knuckles of his left hand, a touch only so brief, so unexpected, so intense. An unmeant touch. Loki shrieked, almost jumped back; was his brother trying to hurt him again?

To be honest it had not hurt, not really.

“Brother, what … what is wrong with you? Are you in pain?” Thor asked and his tone, his words told Loki it had not been his intention to hurt him. It was his body; his own body was betraying him. Loki hissed quietly and bit on his bottom lip. Whatever it was, he should get rid of Thor until he found out why his reactions to Thor’s touches were so _intense_. Uncommon even. But before he could react, Thor reached out to press his warm palm against Loki’s forehead, fingertips brushing against his temples.

It was a source of pleasure. A burning pleasure. Loki’s eyes opened wide and he wanted to yell, to push Thor away, to finally create the flames and burn his brother’s grinning face but instead of an angry reply, instead of words born from hate and despair, most embarrassingly, a moan escaped his lips. A quiet moan. A silent moan. But a moan of pleasure. A moan echoing inside the glass cage, being reflected by the walls until his ears hurt, until the noise became unbearable.

Loki’s face flushed the moment he realized it was real. The touch, as brief as it was, felt good. So good he wanted to nuzzle his head in his brother’s huge palm, so good he was hard within seconds. 

Maybe Thor had not noticed. Maybe –

But Thor had, surely he had. At first he seemed to be as shocked as Loki but then his lips curled into a smile. A second later Loki felt knuckles brushing against his cheeks, a thumb tracing the line of his bottom lip. Slowly, lazily he traced his lips and jaw before he pulled his hands away completely and Loki could not even say anything because he was so shocked. Overwhelmed.

His silver tongue that was spoken of in all Nine Realms was not able to get the words out that stuck in his throat. Instead Thor’s finger left a burning path on his skin, a fire that was spreading out in his whole body until his skin was itching, burning – too sensitive to bear another touch. A touch so kind, so gentle that his knees nearly gave in and he was not sure if this was his punishment, the ultimate torture, or a reward, a promise that everything would be alright, a secret bond between Thor and him promising Thor would take care, would protect him whatever might come.

Loki was lost, completely lost. There was no way to explain this madness but he wanted more and at the same time he feared Thor would notice, Thor would continue, Thor would use his weakness for whatever he might plan to make him suffer. What else could he possibly want? Loki had caused a war. Loki had caused pain. There had to be a plan behind _this_.

\--

Thor glanced at him, his eyes wide, blue eyes scanning his body. He obviously was as shocked as Loki was and Loki hoped, desperately hoped he would not fix his eyes to this special point between his legs where an irritating amount of blood was causing an intense feeling that simply should not be there. That should not be caused by a simple brush against his lips.

They both reacted at the same time. Loki hissed and clenched his fists; Thor smirked even wider, his eyes showing amusement but also a sparkle Loki was not used to see from his brother’s eyes.

Loki quickly turned around, eyes closed, body trembling _. What was wrong with him?_

A moment later he felt strong arms wrapped around his body, holding him as close as possible. He wanted to squinch up his face in disgust, to turn away and cover his face so Thor would not see and, most important, would not be able to do _this_ again.

But his brother was holding him close, locking his arms behind his back in a firm grip of his left hand, the right tracing a small circle over his neck that made Loki want to jump back. Although it was more a breeze than an actual touch it burnt, making his whole body tremble in pleasure and for a moment, a split second, Loki thought that Thor’s finger might leave a permanent mark on his neck, proof of his punishment.

That was a stupid thought, for sure. But Loki was so completely lost that another moan left his lips before he could swallow it down and the moment he noticed he wanted to make himself invisible, to vanish, to make it undone, to make it unheard. But the touch, heavy arms around his small frame, Thor’s heart beating fast against his back; it was all too much.

And in this moment, the moment where Loki realized he wanted this, he wanted this touch, he wanted Thor to be close, he felt the other’s lips against his earlobe, oh, so soft, and his voice, so deep, so beautiful, was sending vibrations over his skin. His whole body was trembling when Thor’s voice was filling Loki’s insides, sending shiver after shiver after shiver until there was nothing else in this world than Thor and his voice and his soft and gentle hands.

“Do you like that, brother dearest?” Thor asked in a soft hum that was so promising, so overloaded with love and desire that Loki could only nod; a weak movement of his head that would have been _pathetic_ in every other situation. But right now it was the only logic conclusion. The only way to make Thor _continue_.

‘Yes, yes, yes’, he wanted to yell, locking all his doubts, all the voices screaming ‘Noo’ in a place somewhere deep in his head.

“Admit it, you like that. You like that more than you should, brother. You want me to continue? Sure you do …” Thor whispered while his hand, strong and powerful and at the same time light and careful was moving down, further down and it did not matter that Loki was still completely dressed since he felt the hot burn even through his clothes.

The burn that had hurt him before he fell asleep was now turning into a strange desire. Maybe the painkillers had been poisoned? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When Thor grabbed the bulge between his legs, Loki whimpered, struggled in an attempt to break free. But the only consequence was an even firmer grip and Thor’s soft voice speaking up again.

“Brother, dearest, I can make you feel better than you have ever before. See this as a special treatment. My punishment for you, better than death.”

A last firm squeeze was accompanying his words and then Thor released his body completely.

What else could he do than nod, drop his gaze to the floor and wait, shivering, trembling, and shaking? His whole skin was in flames, the untouched parts as well the parts where Thor’s finger had burnt him.

Moments later he felt a hand on the small of his back, guiding him to the bed and he wanted to resist, to fight, but he could not, he simply could not. “Thor, I –“, he started, but Thor wiped his words away with a simple gesture. “Shhht, brother. Don’t fight it, I know how I can make you feel better. Trust me, my dearest Loki.”

And Loki gave in to the weakness, the awful, powerful weakness. Just for a second or two. But that glimpse of a moment was more than enough. He was not weak. He would never give himself to Thor like this. He would never be someone’s whore again.

“Leave me, Thor. Don’t pretend you are going to help me with anything”, he hissed, the words leaving his lips like a threat; although he was not the one being able to threat his brother. He was locked in a cage. He was at his brother’s mercy. And it struck him that it was not only bad. It was not black and white, no, there were shadows between these colors, dark shadows maybe. But they were blurring the borders, mixing right and wrong, black and white to an ugly grey Loki was not familiar with.

But he _knew_.

 _He wanted this touch_.

He wanted this hand to come back. His brother’s hand. He wanted his brother’s hand to show him with a single gesture so brief, so small and so overwhelmingly perfect that he was loved. Whatever he had done, how much he ever had suffered: _He was still loved_. And there was someone caring for him. Thor would make it go away. He would ban the dark shadows overclouding his mind, he would heal him, bring back a small light into his life again.

“Thor –“, Loki tried again to speak and his eyes opened wide when he noticed he was lying on the bed. He struggled in a halfhearted attempt to get up. ‘Leave’, he wanted to scream, ‘leave me alone’, but he just stared into these blue eyes, eyes so deep like the ocean, deep and friendly and caring. And he wanted him to leave and to stay. To stop and to continue.

“Shhht”, he heard Thor’s voice again, his index finger brushing against his bottom lip. “I’m not done with you yet, brother.”

Who was the God of Mischief? In another situation Loki would have been absolutely proud to see his brother’s expression.

And that was the moment he was able to read him like an open book.

\--

This was his brother’s way to punish him. For bringing fear, war, death, destruction and grief to Midgard. For forcing him into this fight. He was convinced Loki did not fear the sentence their father was going to speak (and he was terribly wrong: There was nothing Loki feared more than death or a punishment equal to death. And Odin could be really creative when it came to punishments), therefore Thor had to make up a punishment on his own. A simple humiliation. Simple but effective.

It was not too late to end this. He shoved Thor’s hand away angrily. “Thor, listen. You have to –“

He was interrupted, again. “No, Loki. You listen. You can enjoy this and I know, I absolutely know, you do. You are craving for the slightest touch, the slightest proof of love that could possibly enlighten that small amount of life that is left inside of you. You want to feel it.” A finger was tracing the line of his collarbone to strengthen his words and Loki shivered unconsciously, his left arm jerking forwards to grab Thor’s wrist and break his arm as infuriated as he was.

But Thor was faster. A moment later Loki found himself lying flat on his back, stretched out on the bed, the cold metal of the chain Thor had dropped to the floor suddenly around his wrist again; a touch so familiar, so rough, so awful. A spell was forming inside of him, making his chest move up and down in his attempt to spit it out in Thor’s face. Burn him as much as he had burnt him. But how could he, how could he cause pain to these hands …

“Speak a word and you will taste the muzzle again”, Thor whispered. He was straddling him, lips pressed against Loki’s ear and the softness of these lips was enough to make Loki gasp, white flashes dancing in front of his eyes. “And that would be a shame, lovely brother”, Thor continued and now his teeth were sinking in the sensitive skin of his earlobe. “Since it is my intention to hear your beautiful voice, begging, crying, and screaming.” Thor tilted his head, a strand of golden hair falling in his face. “Although I am not sure if that would interest you as well. The guards could hear you and your pretty new home reveals too much of your beauty, little brother.” Thor glanced around, pointing to the walls of the glass prison. “I am sure they would enjoy seeing you like this. You, the prince they’ve once admired.”

Loki bit on his lips heavily _. Ignore him, pretend he is not here, ignore him, ignore –_

A sigh of pleasure filled the room, echoing in Loki’s head, an almost painful noise, the sound of the universe shattering, the sound of simply everything his world ultimately consisted of, destroyed and ripped into pieces. He tried to move, to nuzzle his head into the soft touch against his temple but how could he, how, with his wrists cuffed to the headboard of the bed?

Two fingers were caressing his more than sensitive skin now, moving down to his jawline; every single gesture so slow, so lazy, so protective. If anybody, Odin, Lady Sif, Fandral or even Thor would have asked him if he wanted this, if he _needed_ this, he would have laughed at them and his only answer would have been a mischievous glance and a quick spell to make them shut up. But now …

Oh, how much he _needed_ this. These hands were so huge, a shield able to protect him in every situation possible. From fear and death and pain and suffering. Able to make him forget what the Chitauri were able to do. What the Chitauri had done.

\--

A strange fascination Loki had never seen in his brother’s eyes was all he could sense. And this fascination was so alluring, so perfect that a humming sound rolled over his lips while his whole body was vibrating. Thor had added a third finger and was now stroking the small spot right under his Adam’s apple with just the right amount of pressure causing Loki to jerk his head back to offer everything he had, everything his body could give him right now, offering the most vulnerable spot he could give him until it was fully exposed. With a little more pressure Thor could easily choke him.

But he would not.

The three fingers had moved to the left, tracing circles over his neck while Thor’s thumb was now taking over their place, resting on his throat in silence and Loki was sure his own pulse was sending chills through Thor’s body as much as his brother’s touches were making him shiver. Loki’s pulse rate increased even more when Thor started to rub his thumb against his throat and oh, yes, that was beautiful, that was more than Loki could have ever asked for (how could he ever asked for this since he had never known he wanted this to happen?).

Somehow he managed to expose his throat a little bit more, to move a little bit more upwards and back and force these fingers to increase their pressure.

“I knew you’d like this, brother mine.” He heard Thor’s words from somewhere far away. “May I?”

There was no need for an answer. The expression in Loki’s face was answer enough. And Thor would have continued even if Loki would not have reacted in such a way – he had gone too far to stop it here.

Loki willingly remained calm while Thor slowly pulled his trousers down, heavy leather hitting the cold floor in an odd contrast of black and white, right and wrong.

“That’s a good boy.” Loki felt a hand patting his head and he would do everything, really everything Thor could ever ask him to do just to feel his caressing hand again. Even the half-ironically spoken words could not lower the effect Thor’s hand had. 

“Don’t fight now, lovely Loki. I have to remove your cuffs. But don’t be scared, I will reattach them immediately.” There was the glimpse in the prince’s eyes again, the glimpse that was so uncommon for Loki to see (apart from his own reflection in one of the palace’s mirrors of course).

However, it happened too fast for Loki to think of another possible reaction than gasping and looking at his brother until the rest of his clothes had joined his trousers at the floor and the shackle was reattached to his wrists with a harsh click just seconds later.

“Oh, beautiful Loki, you have no idea how long I have desired to see you like this.” Thor whispered and Loki was not even sure if he meant seeing him locked in a glass cage, helplessly cuffed to a bed or completely naked and shivering under Thor’s touches in anxious expectation of what was to come. Maybe a part of everything.

And he did not have to wait a long time until Thor’s hands were on his body again. Straddling him, Thor started at the soft spot right under his left earlobe, then tracing down his jawline, the underside of his chin, resting several seconds on top of his throat before moving to the right, forming patterns over his neck. The prince slowly increased the pressure of his finger, the nail of his index finger scraping over Loki’s neck until Loki breathed a purring sound and Thor continued satisfied with the reaction he had evoked. After reaching his collarbone Thor moved down his chest to his stomach and hips, his finger leaving burning marks on Loki’s silky skin. At least it felt like that: Hot and thick red lines of pleasure burnt into skin that once, long ago, was flawless and white as marble and porcelain.

Loki shivered, a part of him hoping Thor would move further down to the only part of his body where a few strokes of sensitive skin could bring Loki to completion, could end this special torture Thor had made up for him. But instead Thor was tracing circles over his hipbone, moving upwards again. His finger was carefully circling a dark bruise the Chitauri left on him, a bruise Loki had tried to forget, a bruise he had not had the strength to heal with one of his spells. Loki was even aware of his abused body. But Thor, Thor could make him forget. 

It was not more than a small path Loki was walking. The wish to yell at Thor, to tell him to leave, to cover his body with the blanket at the one side of the path and the wish for Thor to continue, to complete what he had started at the other side were mixing oddly until Loki’s mind was a complete mess without a single clear thought breaking through.

Only with half of his conscious Loki noticed Thor had added more fingers, scratching gently over his chest until he was stroking both of Loki’s sides, his palms hardly touching the shivering skin.

Loki had not expected to be even more sensitive. His body felt like exploding under Thor’s hands and thinking about it he had never seen Thor that careful and gentle before. A quiet whimper fell from his lips, filling the room until Thor’s voice interrupted the echo in Loki’s head.

“Every time you smiled I wanted to fall to my knees and show you what you were doing to me. But you would have never allowed me to. And now, finally, I am able to, finally you are mine, and you have no idea how much I enjoy every second of it, brother mine.”

Thor’s words were reaching him only partly. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe this was not real, maybe –

Loki cried out in pleasure when Thor pinched his right nipple, twisting the small piece of skin between his fingers until Loki’s whole existence consisted only of pleasure, waves of pleasure washing over him, blurring his sight and teleporting him into another world, a world where he would never experience pain, loneliness and cruelty, a world where only his brother and his kindness existed, where Loki was allowed to cover himself in thick layers of never-ending pleasures.

Thor had removed his hands long ago and the vibrations were still pulsing through Loki’s body, the waves only slowly losing their intensity until he was craving for more, his whole body moving against Thor in the hope to find those hands again, those fingers, experience their gentleness and feel the fire burning deep into his skin.

Loki struggled, impatiently waiting, fearing there would be more, fearing there _would not_ be more.

Blond hair was covering Thor’s face when he shifted and for a moment Loki feared he would leave him helplessly bond to the bed. But he just moved to the back of the bed, parting Loki’s legs and Loki did not complain, he almost willingly spread them, obeying to Thor’s never-spoken command. His eyes only opened for a brief moment when he felt cold metal against his right ankle, then against his left and ultimately he was left completely immobilized. Wherever Thor had got another shackle from; maybe he had even planned this, just left him to bring more cuffs to the prison, it was fulfilling its purpose. Loki experimentally tried to move, tried to free his ankles that were now cuffed to the bedposts, but it was impossible. Instead his ankles were burning where Thor had touched him, the humiliation of being completely at Thor’s mercy mixing with the feeling of Thor’s gentle hands Loki was still able to feel unless they had vanished a long time ago pushed him almost to insanity.

Thor moved to sit between his spread legs, eyes resting on Loki’s. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, Loki”, he whispered, his hand resting on a trembling thigh. “See it as a punishment, my lovely brother. But it is more than just a punishment. It is all about you. You alone.” With a small gesture Thor pointed to his own still completely dressed body. “I want to hear your cries, to see your sweet body shaking. But never for my own pleasure. You deserve it, Loki. In every possible way.”

 _How_ _generous_. Deserve it? Was there a sense behind the words at all? Deserve punishment and kindness, kindness as a punishment? Maybe. Thor had noticed how sensitive he was, how much his body was craving for every friendly touch and he was using this fact not for his own pleasure but for Loki’s and to notice this brought tears to Loki’s eyes. Maybe there was a catch. But with his mind teleported to another realm, Loki could not think of this right now. There was just Thor, Thor and his hands, Thor and his sweet touches.

Loki’s thoughts were blurred when Thor lifted his hand to stroke both of his thighs, tracing the borders of the marks the Chitauri had left on him. Loki’s head fell back, his doubts, his thoughts, everything vanishing leaving just him and Thor behind. Thor’s hands were running over his thighs, his knees, his legs, covering him with slow strokes as well as with lazy brushes and every single time Thor’s fingers met his more than sensitive skin, Loki wanted to jump, his body leaning against the restraints, desperately trying to enforce the pressure of Thor’s hands.

When Thor’s hands moved upwards again, carefully pinching the soft skin of his inner thighs, Loki jerked his hips upwards. The only reaction he caused was a brief smirk, hands moving quickly upwards to scrape his hipbone once again. Loki hissed, spells and curses should leave his lips but instead just fragments of words, syllables, pointless babbles were spilling out of his mouth until he was finally able to put into his words what he wanted so desperately. “Thor, please. Touch me –“

“There is nothing I want more, my beautiful Loki.” Thor’s voice was soft, soothing, lulling him in and pushing him even further into this strange universe that only consisted of gentle strokes and passion. “But I would never abuse you. And even more important, this should be a punishment, shouldn’t it? It can’t be that easy, my dearest little brother.”

His brother’s words were hitting Loki like a wave of brutality. _Lies, lies, lies_ , a voice in his head screamed and he hissed, his head jerking from the left to the right, teeth biting into the soft fabric of the blanket beside him, fists clenched, his own nails digging into the skin of his palms until he almost started bleeding, his cuffs cutting through the flesh of his wrists. His whole body was jerking upwards, against Thor, increase the friction, stop it, end it, release me, do anything. He could not bear it, not longer. Not a single minute longer. “Make it stop”, he sobbed. “Please, Thor, make it stop.”

Hot tears were leaving his eyes, covering his long eyelashes before finding their way down his cheeks leaving nothing but a burning path behind. Some of them perished on their way down his face, maybe they even burnt their way deep into his skin – Loki was not sure of that – others were heavily dripping down to his shoulders, making his body tremble each time a little bit more.

“Not yet, my precious Loki.” That was all Loki’s outburst caused. A small whisper, barely to hear. Loki whimpered in frustration, covering his head in the blanket beside him as good as possible, his sobs only slowly dying.

“Your sobs make me think you are not actually enjoying this, sweetest brother”, he heard Thor again. “I could leave right now, maybe the guards will find you here and I am sure _they_ won’t be able to resist your begs and sobs.”

Loki’s eyes widened in shock. “No, just make it stop. Do – everything. But – make it stop – ”.

“I hope you’ll keep your promise, doing everything for me … But what interests me more, my dearest Loki: Do you want to come? Just tell me, tell me how much you want it.”

Thor’s hands were on his chest again, suddenly pinching both of his nipples in a soft movement that was pulsing through Loki’s complete body. He cried out and all he could do was nodding weakly, his eyes covered under a mist of tears.

“You can come whenever you like, remember, this is all about you, Loki”, Thor continued in his softest voice, his fingers now circling around pink nipples, a secret promise of soon pleasures. “But I won’t touch your cock, little brother. You have to do it on your own.”

The words had to sink in, to find their way deep inside Loki’s brain, through the clouds of pleasure until Loki understood and his expression went blank before pure desperation crossed his face, strands of black hair covering his sweaty forehead and eyes when he lifted his head as much as his restraints allowed him to. Loki hissed desperately, throwing mindless syllables in Thor’s face in the hope to change his mind, to wipe at least the smirk away from his lips, a smile that would surely hunt him in his dreams, even worse than Thanos’ smile when he gave his body to the Chitauri in his overwhelming desperation. “No”, was the only word he was able to form, a weak attempt to express his feelings, to give his brother an idea how much he was torturing him, what he was doing to him. But he knew, surely he knew. It had been planned. It was his plan to make him suffer.

\--

There were no more words necessary. Instead Thor bowed his head, moving down, down, down until endlessly soft lips met even softer skin, building a connection that was beautifully painful. And when Thor had caused a fire inside his body before he was now completely inflamed, the lips creating a fire, a storm, a thunderstorm that was almost tearing his body apart.

Thor started with his left knee, kissing gently upwards. He spend minutes stretched to hours, stretched to days, months, eternity with kissing his thighs, especially the insides of his thighs, covering every part of his skin with kisses light as a breeze, his lips did not even met his silky skin completely. From time to time the golden hair tickled Loki’s skin as well, but Thor carefully made sure he never touched Loki’s cock; not even when Loki moved his hips in a desperate attempt to force himself into his desired release.

Loki moaned and gasped and whimpered when precome was leaking from the head of his cock, his erection throbbing painfully, waiting for a stroke, just one or maybe two that would bring release. They would not come. No stroke, no touch, not even a brush of soft lips to lick up the promising precome, to enjoy its taste.

“You are eager, prince Loki”, he heard Thor’s voice from somewhere far away but was not able to concentrate or to notice the bitter irony in his words. Prince Loki, he was not a prince, he had never been. And just the promise of being a prince, a king, had brought him that far, destroyed him, caused the pain only Thor was able to shove away with his kisses, with his touches.

Instead of an answer, Loki whimpered in distress, his body melting under soft kisses. Thor continued moving upwards causing Loki to cry out again when he added his hands to the softest torture even possible. The wet trails his tongue left were somehow cooling down Loki’s skin, an odd mixture between hot and cold, right and wrong. Finally the kisses were hungrier, heavier, reaching his jawline, teeth biting his earlobe, a tongue licking up the remaining tears. Thor kissed the corner of Loki’s mouth briefly and Loki turned his head in a silly attempt to force their lips to connect, to create a bond between them stronger than any possible bond between brothers. But Thor was faster, drawing away with a light chuckle, fingers scraping over his chest until Loki was trembling again.

“I ought to taste you, brother. But as I said, this is not about me. It is all about you. For you.” With every word he spoke Thor pressed another kiss to Loki’s marble skin. “Can you manage to come for me?” The tongue brushing against Loki’s ear caused even more tears to flow. “Thor, please, I –“ Loki pleaded, sob after sob forming deep inside him, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

And yes, Thor pushed him further with his strokes, further and further just by touching his skin, touching and scraping and pinching and kissing, always too much to ignore, not enough to be pushed over that edge he was balancing on even though he wanted to fall into his release more than anything. “—I will do everything you desire, Thor. Please.” He would hate himself for that later, but he was begging, making promises he might not be able to keep. But he wanted it, wanted it, wanted it.

Thor forced him to hold the balance. To stay where he was, not able to jump from that edge. To fall. Loki whimpered and cried and jerked his hips and still felt the long promised release rising in his insides. It was tearing him apart to still feel the hands and lips on his body, his desire that would never been fulfilled burning his insides.

And then, suddenly, Thor’s hands moved to his chest, pinching his nipples once more, harder than before but not hard enough to be actually painful and at the same time, oh so beautiful, so overwhelmingly beautiful, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Loki’s, his tongue brushing against lips, against teeth and finally against Loki’s tongue in a long kiss, a fight, a union.

Loki gasped and felt more tears falling down his face and he wanted to cry and scream, his voice muffled by Thor’s mouth. And suddenly it was over. His erection was throbbing between his legs until white stripes of come were covering his body as well as Thor’s clothes and Loki gasped and gasped and gasped, trying to catch his breath without having to pull away from Thor, from the kiss, he did not want to pull away, it could not be over, not now, not yet, but it was and Loki’s body was shaking, trembling, a complete mess without the slightest chance of recovery until Thor slowly pulled away with a small kiss to his forehead. “I knew you could do it, Loki.”

Thor quickly removed the cuffs and Loki’s arms and legs dropped to the bed, he was weak, awfully weak, he was not even able to cover himself. But Thor did, with one slow movement he reached out, pulled the blanket over Loki’s still shaking body and while Loki was already half asleep he kissed his eyelids. “I love you, Loki. And I swear I will not fail to protect you this time.”


End file.
